Do You Know
by Glisseo
Summary: Some find saying "I love you" easier than others. Previously a one- then two-shot, now expanded.
1. Ginny

You love me.

Sometimes, it hits me, overwhelms me. _You love me_.

Some men show their affection with flowers, or chocolates, or an expensive night out in a romantic resturaunt. Not you. You _died _for me. And because you did that, because I _know _you love me so much, I'm perfectly content to spend a special night - Valentine's Day, my birthday - being held in your arms, in our home. Just us. You and me.

You not only died for me, you left me because you loved me, and even though I was mad at the time, now, I am glad. I heard from you what that year on the run did to Ron and Hermione, and even though it made them - as a unit - stronger in the end, it tore them apart, too. If I had been there with you, _us _might not have survived.

I am glad, because you loved me enough to ignore what I wanted. Twisted, mad, but true. You knew I wanted us to be together. _You _wanted us to be together. But you loved me, so you broke us up.

I am glad, because it made that first kiss after the battle, the first kiss in almost a year, so much better.

You love me, and I know you love me, but I wonder occasionally whether you know. Whether _you _know that _I _love you so, so much, so much it hurts, sometimes, and I would do _anything _for you. I love your messy hair, and your awkwardness. I love the fact that you are a world-wide hero, and yet you still leave your smelly socks on the bedroom floor. I love that you are heart-stoppingly handsome to me, and not many others, because _you are mine_.

I love that you never let me beat you at Quidditch. I love that you seem to _like _playing with my hair, night after night, while I read. I love your total ignorance when it comes to women. I love the fact that you still seem slightly scared of Hermione when she's in full-on bookworm mode, even after all these years. I love that sometimes you just stare at me, like you've never seen me before, a look of complete awe on your face. I love how much taller you are than me. I love that we could be anywhere, absolutely anywhere, and I would just have to hold your hand and I'd be completely calm.

I love how girls will come up to you and flirt with you, and you'll just turn and stare at me, looking panicked.

I love how you still keep trying to count all my freckles, even though you know you'll just lose count after twenty-five.

I love how perfectly happy you seem to be when you're with me.

_I love you_.

_**Little drabble I've had on my computer for a while: thought I'd post it today! Enjoy!**_


	2. Harry

Do you actually know how amazing you are?

How beautiful you are?

I look at you and I see someone whom I don't deserve. But I'm glad that I've got you. I am … so, so thankful that I've got you.

Dumbledore said that the most powerful weapon was love, that the most important thing in the world was love, and that's probably the wisest thing I've ever heard.

(And I've known Hermione for a long time.)

I love you so much that, with your face in my mind, your voice in my ears, I would be strong enough to do anything.

Almost anything.

I wouldn't have been able to die, if I hadn't known that in doing so, I would be protecting you. And yeah, it was protecting so many other people, but you were a big part of that.

Do you know that you were my last thought before I was killed?

And if I die again - properly this time - you'll be my last thought then.

You are the beginning and the middle and the end of the world, and I love you.

Do you know what's stupid?

I can't _tell _you. I can't tell you all this. Saying "I love you" just isn't enough.

If we had enough time, I would sit you down and tell you every thing that I love about you.

But for that, we'd need all the time in the world.

I love how I can spot you immediately in a crowd, just because of your hair. I love how you always have cold feet, and you'll press them onto my legs deliberately. I love how you are so small, yet you're one of the strongest people I know. I love that you were always so tough, and yet after Fred's death, you cried for days. I love the fact that I'm the only one who can make you blush. I love it when you _do_ blush, your face matching your hair. I love your blazing look. I love your smell, your lovely flowery smell. I love how, when you're playing Quidditch, you always have the biggest smile plastered on your face. I love how you think no-one notices when you fall asleep during a conversation with Percy. I love how you seem to _like _how messy my hair is, and how you love messing it up even more. I love how someone can give you a cat, a mug of hot chocolate, and someone you love, and you'll be perfectly content.

I love how that someone is often me.

I love how you always try to make me do the cooking.

I love the way your mouth turns up when you tell people that if you hadn't met me first, you would have married Dudley.

And I love your indignant expression when they laugh.

Do you know that you don't need to tell me that you love me?

I know.

I know, and I _don't _know why, but I'm pretty certain I'm not going to question it. Just the fact that you do is enough to make me the happiest man on earth.

Do you know that if I looked in the Mirror of Erised now, I'd probably see myself exactly as I am?

That's because of you.

Cheers, Ginny.


	3. Ron

Oh, Merlin. Where … where to start?

I love … I love your hair. No, I don't. I prefer it when it's all sleek and shiny, but it's hardly ever like that. I like it then.

I like your smile. You don't smile an awful lot, but when you do it's sort of … captivating.

I love your obsession with getting things right. Well, it makes me laugh.

I don't like your cooking. No offence.

Although you can make spaghetti Bolognese. That's quite nice.

I love the way you fuss over me. It's nice, you know? Well, sometimes it gets a bit much, but like … like when I haven't come home from a mission. And I'm gone for days. And when I _do _come home, you're there by the door, awake no matter what time of the day, wide-eyed and wild-haired …

(OK, maybe I do like your hair)

… and you'll throw yourself at me and … well, I'm not going into what happens _then_, but it's cool.

I love how it's always _you _who goes to pieces. Not me. You really wouldn't have made a good Auror. You're better … doing what you do …

D'you know something?

I heard some people the other day, in the Atrium. They were saying, "that Hermione Weasley would make a good Minister, don't you think?"

It was all I could do not to leap out and shout "that's my wife!"

Well …

All right, I did. They didn't laugh, though. They said nice things. Harry laughed. Like he hasn't got a hundred newspaper clippings about Ginny plastered over the walls of his cubicle.

You're really, _really _clever. And I won't ever be as good at thinking as you are.

And I'm really, _really _glad that you kissed me that time.

That year - when you went back to school? And I didn't? Blimey. I really _missed _you. It was like … I'd had this wasp buzzing around my ear for eight years, and then it was suddenly _gone_. And I wanted that wasp back.

You cry too much. But I'm quite good at stopping it now, so that's OK.

You help everyone. It's like you can't resist it. I like that.

You leave books _everywhere_. In the bathroom, in the kitchen … I even tried reading one the other day. Couldn't understand it. But you can, and that's mental.

In a good way, I think.

The week before our wedding, when you had a panic attack after trying to organise everything, and you just sat down and said "I'm not doing it!" - that was wicked. And then you didn't. You didn't do it. And our wedding was the best one I've ever been to.

I love the moments when you just _snap_. Like when you hit Malfoy! I think that was when I … when I … fancied you. A bit. Don't get bigheaded.

I nearly fainted when you told me that you only went out with McLaggen to make me jealous. Maybe whooping and punching the air was a bit much, but I thought … well, it doesn't matter now. You chose me, right?

I …

This is really difficult to say.

I …

If you were here now, you'd be saying, "oh, just get _on _with it, Ron!"

So … here goes.

I sort of love you. Not even sort of. I do. I'm really really glad you're here. _There_. Everywhere. With me.

Er … so, is that all?

_**This was getting quite popular, so I thought I'd carry it on with other characters and their other halves. This one is a bit different. Darling Ron. He's not the most romantic, even if his emotional range is more the size of a tablespoon these days. **_

_**Hermione should be coming soon. Hope you like it.**_


	4. Hermione

_How _is it that I can write a five foot essay on goblin rebellions and yet I can't even think of what to say for _this? _The most difficult subject. I suppose it doesn't require thinking. You can't look it up in books. If you know it, you know it.

I know it … I just don't know how to say it.

The thing is, when you love someone, it's really rather difficult to list everything that you like about that person. In fact, I think it'd be easier to list everything I _don't _like - but that's beside the point.

Right. So … I love your dedication to your job. And even though you work five days a week with the Aurors, you always spend Saturday afternoon in the shop with George.

You made that shop even more of a money-spinner than it was before, and that's saying something.

So - what else? You really seem _interested _when I talk about house-elf laws. What you said, during the battle? About how we should evacuate the house-elves … oh, Ron! I think that was the most sensitive thing I've ever heard you say.

You're really quite protective of me. It's sweet - although, really, that man in Madam Malkin's didn't mean anything when he said those robes would look nice on me. You didn't need to arrest him.

(I liked the ones you chose more, anyway.)

You brush my hair sometimes. Well, of course you know that. But I like it; even if you _do _leave the brush in my hair after a minute and say that it's no good, it's simply too bushy.

I want to know something, though. Why do I have to tell you all this? For once (and please don't be insulted, dear Ron), we know just as much as each other. About this. This intricate subject, more complex than I have ever studied. It's precise and yet it's so infinite, so misshapen and blurry and impossible to read …

Love at first sight doesn't exist. Do you want to know what _I _think? Well, of course you don't, you're always telling me that, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Love at first sight doesn't exist … because _I _think love is knowing what you would do for a person. If that makes sense. You probably don't think so …

You _know _all this. You know exactly what I like about you, and what you don't. We are level on this. Both 'O' students.

(On that note, perhaps one thing you don't know is how annoyed I was that you didn't go back for your NEWTs. Oh no, I've told you that, haven't I?)

You never, _ever _put your dishes in the sink. And I don't care what you say, those books were not left _on the top stair _and _I _think you tripped over them on purpose.

But I love you anyway. You can't base loving someone on their flaws - or their qualities! You love someone for them as a whole. Or at least, I hope _you _do, because I'm not going anywhere.

It was my birthday yesterday.

You bought me a book.

_Magical Moments in Quidditch_.

Dear Ron …

**Ugh, this was more difficult than I anticipated! Sort of glad I got it finished (or as finished as I could get it) today, though … happy belated birthday, Hermione!**

**OK ... any requests for another pair? I want to try and stick to characters who are fully formed in canon, if that makes any sense ... so I probably won't be doing Teddy and Victoire, for instance, or Draco and Astoria ... perhaps Lily and James ... let me know what you all think.**

**Sorrrrrrrrrry to watchers of my other stories ... coursework is the devil and my brand new shiny laptop is still very unorganised - I can't find anything! Fingers crossed for more stuff soon!  
**


	5. Lily

It was never I who changed.

The assumption is always, "why did you change your mind, Lily?"

I didn't _change my mind_.

You changed yours.

And I can never thank you enough … for making me happier than I could have ever dreamed.

You were a bit of a bully, and an arrogant twit, and you thought having power was cool. And I _am _sorry I said so many horrible things that day; but I needed to. Don't you understand? I hope you do. It made you so much better as a person.

No, you didn't turn up to lessons the next morning as a caring, sensitive boy. It was … gradual. You spent far less time in detention … and you were still funny, for that's one of the things I love most about you, your wonderful sense of humour; but it really seemed like you had a heart. That you were putting to good use.

In September of our seventh year, I found out that Remus was a werewolf, and I _knew _you had that heart. For befriending him. For looking past the prejudices that you grew up with.

You fancied me, and … I was flattered, because you were a bit more obvious about it than others. You didn't shout it from the rooftops, or … or stand up at Gryffindor table, or anything ridiculous like that, but you were never afraid to be caught looking.

At me.

Everyone makes mistakes. Some are petty. Some are … some are unforgivable. Some you can't fix.

But some you _can_, and you _did_, and I love you so much for it. There, you see, is the difference, the difference between a man who sees that he was wrong and continues to be so, and a man who sees what he has done and chooses to make up for it. No, not make up for it, because that would suggest you simply apologising. Not to me. To everyone you and Sirius ever treated badly. But you made sure _it never happened again_.

I'm sorry to go on like this … I just want you to know … I love you so, so much. I could have fled the country with the other Muggle-borns when I left school. But you chose to rush into the thick of the fighting, and I saw what danger you were in … a blood-traitor, they call you! And one of immense talent … I knew then I couldn't leave your side.

And I may never be as good as you, but I don't care. I'll try, and I'll try, and I'll save as many lives as I can, and if I die in the process, then you will at least know that I love you and I am so, so glad that you brought me into this world, this world of true courage and making a _real _stand and duty.

I have no doubts that you will stay strong for much longer, for you are far cleverer; far more talented, far bolder. And so if I don't make it, my darling James … then just know … that I am forever grateful that you changed your mind.

**Quite sad, this. Or at least, I think so. It was quite difficult writing this, because we **_**know **_**Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione in the books, and yet we only get a brief glimpse of Lily, not really enough to know how she would put something like this. Hopefully … like this? So it'll be James next. Molly is being written, and it's a bit different, far longer, than the others. But I hope you'll all like it. **


	6. James

In June, shortly before we sat the last of our N.E., Professor Dumbledore called me into his office. Professor McGonagall came to collect me from Arithmancy. And I was scared. Over the past few years, we'd seen lots of our classmates taken out of lessons to be told that someone in their family was dead. My thoughts went immediately to my parents. They were by no means young. Their reactions were slower. They were marked as blood traitors. And of course, I was an even bigger blood traitor. I'd befriended the Black that had made himself an outcast from his pureblood supremacists of a family, and Sirius and I had spent our most recent holidays generally getting in the way of the Death Eaters' fun. It was dangerous and reckless and stupid, but it gave us both an adrenaline rush. We'd even managed to save a Muggle family once. But then, as McGonagall led me to Dumbledore's office, I thought, has what I've done cost my parents their lives?

You'd grabbed my hand as I left the classroom, squeezed it tight, and I knew that _you _knew what I was thinking.

Imagine my surprise - and relief - when Dumbledore had told me about the existence of a secret organisation called the Order of the Phoenix, who did basically what Sirius and I had been doing. Imagine my pride when he'd told me that he wanted me to join. This was an exception, he'd said, he didn't want to bring an eighteen-year old into an adults' war, but the Death Eaters outnumbered the Order, and they needed the best. That inflated my head, all right. The best! I'd known I was good, of course. But _that _good? That good that _Dumbledore _needed me?

I'd said right there and then, though, I'd join if my friends could join with me. Sirius would want to - he'd be insulted that he hadn't been asked in the first place, because he was just as good as me. (He never quite forgave Dumbledore for that, in fact.) And Remus, as much as he liked to keep out of trouble, was brilliant at duelling. And Peter - well, Peter had talents. His Animagus form could be useful, though of course I didn't tell Dumbledore about that.

I didn't mention you.

Another reason for my blood-traitor status was my choice in girlfriend. A Muggle-born! How scandalous. And what was more, a Muggle-born who was just as talented, just as brave as any pureblooded wizard! But still, I didn't mention that you might want to join. Stupid of me.

I didn't _want _you to join. By then I cared about you enough to know that I would not let you get hurt. I would go out and let myself be killed if that was what it meant (and at that time, I didn't realise that was what it did.) - but you would _not _be touched. At this point we had only been going out for a few months, but I knew already that you were the one I wanted to marry. Eighteen, and talking about marriage! That was how fast I'd grown up.

I went back and I told Sirius and Remus and Peter about this opportunity we'd been given. Remus was doubtful - he didn't have the inheritance that Sirius, Peter and I had. He needed to earn money, and the Order wasn't a _paying _job. Simple. I would support him. He could live at home with me if he wanted, or at Sirius's place. No problem.

Peter was nervous, but he agreed.

Sirius was delighted. He couldn't wait to leave Hogwarts and start fighting. This was how he got his excitement, by taking risks. And until a point that I couldn't quite place, that was how I got mine, too.

It was only when you rushed up to me in the common room and said fearfully, "James? Is everything OK?" that I remembered you. And my plans to marry you. Would you want to marry someone who was putting his life on the line?

So I told you. And you had said yes, of course you would. But there was a glint in your eye I didn't like, and my fears were confirmed when you came to me the next day and told me that you had been to see Dumbledore.

"I won't _hide_," you said to me scornfully. "I won't run. I want to be with you, I want to marry you, and you've got to accept that we're in this together from now on. I'm _always _going to be by your side."

"But you're going to be in so much danger," I'd protested. "You're Muggle-born! They're going to target you anyway, if you're in the Order -"

"Don't you realise that I feel the same way?" you'd said fiercely. "You're a blood-traitor! You're almost as much as a target as I am. I just can't run away while you could be getting yourself killed. I _have _to do this."

You were right - you've always been by my side. You're going to marry me. Every day we do something that makes a stand against _him_. Voldemort. And he's asked us to join him - I won't. You won't. How did we grow up so fast?

Lovely Lily. How could either of us have ever guessed that it would end up like this? I'm sorry for being a prat, but I'm glad you made me see what I was doing. We could die any day, but I'll die knowing that Lily Evans loved me and I loved her. Sounds stupid … but at least I know. Beautiful Lily. I fancied you since I was thirteen - how sad is that? I wonder if we'll ever get to have children. Eighteen and thinking of children! But that's what this does to you. It makes you think, makes you see everything that you could miss tomorrow. It makes you grateful for everything you've had, and regret everything you could have done better. It makes you, apparently, poetic and grown-up. Seriously, though - who would have thought it'd turn out like this?

I'm not going to lose you. I had enough trouble getting you. But that's not what you say, is it? You say _you _got _me_. Maybe. I love you anyway, _Evans._

**So - a lot longer than Lily's, and maybe not very James-like at the end. But while we saw little of Lily, we saw even less of James, and I like his character. I like how he changed. But I wasn't really able to portray him properly in this ...  
**

**Hope you like it anyway. **


	7. Molly

Dear Arthur. Dear, _dear _Arthur. They said eighteen was too young. My mother said it would never last. "You'll regret it," she told me, I remember. "Marrying a boy you barely know!"

Others said it was the panic of the war. People dying. And why shouldn't it be? What is wrong with not wanting to waste a second?

I don't regret it. At all. You may fritter away your time with Muggle junk, and you may hardly ever take my side … but you have given me a constant companion all these years, given me seven beautiful children, made it so I am never, never alone.

Darling Arthur. We've been through so much … births, weddings and deaths.

I could never have gone through it all without you. Our children could never have grown up so wonderfully without you as a father. Bill would never have been Head Boy without you to teach him how to respect people. Charlie would never have been Quidditch Captain without you to spend all those hours flying with him in the back garden, teaching him perseverance.. Percy would never have been so studious, so clever, without you to teach him dedication and pride in what you do. The twins would never have been so full of life and lively without you to teach them that laughter can be the best medicine. Ronnie would never have been so loyal without you to teach him the values of family and friends. Ginny would never have been so bold, so strong, without you to treat her equally in a family where she was the only girl.

I would have never got through everything without you to love me, to calm me down, to be a constant, solid, presence in a life where everything was changing. We were poor. Who cared? Our children kept the house full of light and warmth, and you were happy doing what you did, and that was what was important.

I will never forget the look on your face when Percy walked out. I know it hurt you, but I cannot thank you enough for keeping it together while I fell to pieces. At one of the most difficult times in my life - our son had left us, we were living with a known criminal, You-Know-Who was back - you were there and you were calm, and you told me it would be all right.

And when Percy came back, and apologised over and over again, you told him it didn't matter. And suddenly, it didn't.

We gained a son that night, but we also lost one.

Losing a child leaves a hole in your heart that will never heal. Everybody blames themselves. We think of the 'should-haves' and 'what-ifs' and 'whys'. I told myself I shouldn't have told him off so much, should have let him be, should have paid more attention to him. I hated myself because years and years ago, when my brothers had been killed and little Harry Potter had been nearly killed, I had sworn that I would never, _ever _lose one of my children that way.

You kept me going. I was useless to everyone in the months after Fred's death, I know I was. They all needed their mother, especially George, but I was a wreck, and you came through yet again. You sat up with George for hours on end, talking him through it, you were always there for smiles and hugs and words of wisdom, and we got through it. Not over it - never over it.

Every May, we don't mourn the death of our son. We raise our glasses and we know that we had a son who was brave enough to fight when others fled. We had a son who was so loyal to his family that he would give his life for them. We had a son who was so intelligent but never used his brains for what we wanted him to - and yet he took pride in what he did and he did it wonderfully. We had a son who never gave up until he accomplished something. We had a son who stood up for what he believed in. We had a son who laughed until the very end.

He would never have been that without you, my darling Arthur. Without you, I would not be here, a woman who has suffered loss and pain and much much more, and yet still standing, surrounded by my sons, daughter, grandchildren, all because of you. You lose and yet you keep on giving, my man, always proud, always strong, always mine.

**Well, I started writing this in what, January, February? And it was a lot, lot, longer, around 2000 words, but I felt it was too much of a retelling of Molly and Arthur's story and not enough of Molly's feelings. So I rewrote it as this. I'm not too fond of it, but I'd love to know what anyone else thinks. It was difficult, I'll say that much.**

**I still have the original version, in case anybody would like to read Molly and Arthur's story through the years from Molly's perspective. Let me know. **


	8. Arthur

You know, I never did see myself marrying a pureblood. Sorry, Molly. It's just that Muggles are so fascinating, when I was fifteen or so, I was certain that I was going to marry a Muggle girl, or maybe a Muggle-born, and live in a Muggle town, and that I'd promote Muggle rights, and she would teach me all about how they lived.

Now, when I was sixteen, a girl caught my eye. I'd known her before, of course, we were in the same house and year. I'd spoken to her, and I'd always fancied her a _bit. _But I had my dream of marrying a Muggle.

But then Molly Prewett caught my eye and my heart, and I was so utterly in love that I didn't give a hoot what her blood status was.

In my dream, my Muggle wife taught me about plugs and batteries and ekeltricity. I wasn't to know that you, Molly Prewett, with your fiery hair and eyes and smile, would teach me about life, love, and everything in between. The reason you were never my dream, Molly, is because you are far too brilliant to dream of. I could never have imagined someone like you.

Love is even more fascinating than Muggles, so much more complicated and interesting! You taught me everything you knew, Molly Prewett, how to dance, and how to make you smile, and how to stop your crying, and how not to make you start crying in the first place. But the rest of it ... the rest of it, we were learning together, as we went.

I know I exasperate you, and I am sorry, dear. But I think we've done all right, haven't we? I know I haven't provided for you like a good husband should ... but you've always told me it doesn't matter. We have each other, and we have our children, and that's the most important thing, isn't it?

Goodness, I didn't even know I all this bottled up inside me. I know I tell you I love you, and I do hope you believe me, but it's not quite the same as telling you why. But we don't have the time. I'm busy doing what I always wanted to do. I'm living some of the dream I dreamt when I was fifteen; I am promoting Muggle rights and equal status, and I could not be happier.

You are busy being a wonderful mother and grandmother. Some of the dream I dreamt when I was fifteen is very different, and I don't think I could have been half as happy living with a Muggle girl, in a Muggle town. You, Molly, are so much better than a dream, because you are real. You are there for me. You married me when we were eighteen and gave me seven beautiful children, and like our children you grew as a person, you became stronger and I learnt much about you that I never knew before. A lot changes about Muggle technology, but the one thing about you, Molly, that will never change, is that you love me and I love you, and knowing that will keep me happy forever.

I know all I can about Muggles, but I'll never know everything about love. I'll never know what it is that makes my heart beat quicker every time I see you, even now. I'll never know every single little reason why I love so you, Molly, Molly Weasley, my Mollywobbles ...

**Well this took about five minutes and you can probably tell, but I know if I don't do it now I never will! Such a dedicated author, I know. I do love Arthur and I wanted to do him justice but ... well, I hope I have.**

**Just for the record, while I was writing this I was listening to 'The Book of Love' by Peter Gabriel - such a lovely song for Molly and Arthur! :) **


	9. Tonks

My mum always told me that there'd come a point in life at which I'd be ready to grow up. She said this all throughout my teenage years, through the brightly coloured hair and the 'ear-shattering' music and the practical jokes; through the inability to behave, to stay still, to find a nice boy and settle down.

Hers came, she said, when she met Dad and realised that she'd do absolutely anything to be with him, that everything she did, said, was for him, that she'd cast aside her family and everything they stood for - for him.

I thought it'd happen when I decided to become an Auror, when I wanted to stop people from doing bad things, people like Mum's family. But it didn't - I still liked wearing my hair the way Mum hated, in all the colours I could think of. I still played jokes on people. I still couldn't even think of getting married without laughing til I cried. It just _wasn't going to happen_.

I knew I could still be a good Auror - I was good. I just couldn't grow up yet. It wasn't my time.

Everyone in the Ministry heard about the mysterious death of Cedric Diggory at Hogwarts. He was a Hufflepuff, like me - he'd been a third-year when I left. And everyone heard what Dumbledore was saying about the cause of his death ... that You-Know-Who was back. That'd he'd killed Diggory, and tried to kill the Boy Who Lived ...

The papers said Potter and Dumbledore were raving. Fudge said they were raving.

A week after You-Know-Who's alleged return, Dumbledore showed up at my parents' house.

He was trying to convince them of You-Know-Who's return. He said the Ministry had been wrong about a lot of things in the past - convicted innocent people, he'd said, looking straight at Mum - and they were wrong now. _He_ was back, and the Order of the Phoenix, a secret anti-Dark organisation, needed people to help bring him down.

He'd come to Mum and Dad because he knew Mum didn't stand for You-Know-Who's beliefs - she'd left her own Dark family and married a Muggle-born - and he thought they might help, even if they didn't want to officially join.

Mum and Dad agreed to that, but I, who had been listening despite Mum's protests, wanted more.

"I want to join."

_Was that it? Was that the point?_

It wasn't. I joined the Order of the Phoenix, and Dumbledore took me to an old, run-down part of London, and revealed the location of their secret headquarters. I stepped into that grimy, dark house, into a kitchen that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years, and found a surprisingly large group of people - some I knew, like - to my shock - Kingsley Shacklebolt, a fellow Auror, Mad-Eye Moody, my old mentor, and Bill Weasley, who had been at school with me - smiling at me.

"Our newest member," Dumbledore had introduced me. "Nymphadora Tonks."

"It's just Tonks," I'd told them, something I'd been repeating for most of my life.

A tall, thin man with long dark hair and a shadowy face had come forwards, staring. He'd looked familiar - very familiar - but I couldn't place him.

"Tonks?" he'd repeated. "As in Ted Tonks?"

"My dad."

"Andromeda's daughter!" he'd crowed, looking delighted, and not nearly as shadowy, and I'd realised -

"Sirius Black!"

- and remembered what Dumbledore had said. That the Ministry had convicted innocent people in the past. And I remembered how he'd looked at Mum as he said that.

Sirius Black. Mum's cousin.

"You're not a murderer?"

"I'm not," he'd replied, still smiling. "Not yet, anyway. I thought you were only a baby! Hey - Remus - you remember my cousin Andromeda?"

Another man had come through the crowd, thin, pale, younger, I could tell, than he looked.

"Welcome to the good side," you said wryly, holding out your hand.

_That can't be it._

It wasn't.

It was quite simple. I fell in love. I've fallen a lot of times, but this time was definitely the most enjoyable - and yet probably the most painful. I fell in love with you. You slowed me down, made me treasure the little things, take life a bit more seriously. But I still wasn't ready to grow up.

You fell in love too, you admitted it. Foolish thing to do, eh? Fools together.

But of course, we couldn't be together. You were _too old, too poor, too dangerous_. I know. But I also knew everything you'd told me before. That I brightened up your life with my hair colours and clumsiness and jokes.

_So what was it? When did it happen?_

The thing is, if I'd come that far - got a job, fought in a war, fallen in love - without needing to let go of the hair, and the jokes, why did I need to? If they made someone else happy, what did it matter?

You are old, I'm not going to deny it. Your hair's going grey - bet you wish you could change it like I can, eh? And yeah, you haven't got that much money. What the hell do you want to buy? You've got me!

And what's life without a little danger? You don't need to worry about hurting me, you already did that when you told me you couldn't be with me. Trust me, that hurts a lot more than anything you could do as a werewolf. But you're over it now, right? Don't ever do that again, I'll kick your arse.

Truth is, for me, there never will be that point. I am growing - I grow more and more in love with you every day - but you're grown-up enough for the both of us. And if I can love you even if you are too old, too poor, and too dangerous, then why the heck can't you love me when I'm too young, too clumsy, too childish?

_You've made your point._

Yeah. So there is a point. It isn't the point at which you grow up. It's the point that you realise don't need to.

* * *

_H82aeh3lauifrea)()"$)*")£. _

_So. I woke up this morning and realised what date it was, and was like oh, fiddlesticks, it's basically a year since I posted the first chapter of this and I take this sort of thing very seriously. So I wrote this instead of doing my drama coursework (due in tomorrow) so you'd better be grateful, even thought it's a pile of dragon dung. And my coursework will be too. Oh dear._

_Tonks is dreadfully hard to write - I just couldn't capture her spirit and still have her being serious. Bad Glisseo. _

_Remus - today? Tomorrow? Who knows. Probably tomorrow, because I'd like to finish this on the same day that I started it. (Yes, that's right, finish it.) _

_I have horribly long authors notes. Does anyone actually read these?_

**Um, OK, edit - and I'm sorry if you get a new email every time I change this, I dunno - just realised it's actually_ two _years since I first started this. Wow. I really am bad at updating. Nine chapters in two years. Whoops ..._  
_**


	10. Remus

I know what you'd say to me, if you were here. You'd punch my arm and call me a first-class prat, or something to that effect. You wouldn't be wrong, either.

I _am _a first-class prat. I'm a fool and an idiot and a complete – well, I expect there are loads of words you could suggest.

My head's muddled. I can't make sense of my own feelings. I wish you were here. You had it all, even if you didn't realise it.

_I _had it all – or I would have. A wife. I never thought I'd have a wife, never in a million years, did you? Certainly not one like Dora. She made everything … colourful. I needed it. After you snuffed it, when it all went so horribly wrong, everything was … dull, dark, without all the jokes and stupid tricks and all that. But Dora … she made it all brighter. She was just this huge burst of energy. She made me feel young and alive again and oh God, I needed that.

I have something to confess. I feel like I ought to. I went to see Harry today, and I told him – told him that Dora is going to have a baby. I wish I could be excited. Harry picked up on it – I said I could come with him on his mission, and he put two and two together and – well, he did what you would have done, he gave me a piece of his mind and said all the things I wasn't letting myself hear and I lost my temper. Don't – I know you'd be looking at me like I'm crazy now, and I think I am. I don't think I really hurt him. But everything he was saying, it just got to me ...

I _cannot _be a father to this child. Can I? I'm a wreck! I can't handle my own emotions! I love Dora so very much and of _course _I would love the child, but would it love me? It could be like me. I can't possibly put that upon a child.

Help me, won't you? I don't know how. You seemed so happy. How did you do it? I – oh, God, I know what I want to do. I just want to be with Dora, be with our child, because a child _needs _a father. I could be a good father, couldn't I? You made it look so easy.

Of course, now I see why Harry was so angry. Children should have fathers. Am I deliberately going to deny a child of that, when it is possible for the child to grow up loved and happy?

I've come to you because – well, I always did. You're the moral one, you nearly always did the right thing, you had your head on straight. I suppose I was just hoping you could steer me in the right direction … and I think you have. You and Harry.

I need the light back. I've been in the dark for too long now. I just never thought this could happen and now it is – I'm expecting something to go wrong. But what if it doesn't, and I threw away the chance? I can't do that. I can take it, I can be a good father and a husband. I want to be. I think – I _know_ – that you would kick me if I wasn't.

It helps, talking to you. It probably shouldn't, and I miss your interruptions and snorts and sarcastic comments, but … you've helped me, although you don't know it.

Right. I need to go and grovel for my life back. I don't know if I'll come again. I hope I won't need to.

You would be happy for me, wouldn't you? Happy that I haven't sat around mourning – well, that I'm not doing that any more? You'd want me to get on with life, fall in love and have a family and take down a few Death Eaters while I'm at it.

Thank you. For everything. I miss you, and I wish you were here to call me a big girl for saying that. I hope we won't see each other again – for a very long time.

I'm putting the lights back on.

_**This is a bit different, because I thought the others were getting a bit repetitive and I couldn't get into the swing of it. I don't know how much I like this, I know it's not as romantic or anything as the others … and I hope it's clear what's going on. Probably not. Hm.**_


	11. Andromeda

I always wanted my life to be so meticulously planned, but that all went down the drain the second I met you. Until then, everything was going the way it should. I was Sorted into Slytherin, my marks were excellent, I got along with my sisters and my parents, I was destined for great things. I knew what Bellatrix wanted for _her _life, but I found it easier to ignore it, ignore what she was doing. I didn't hate Muggle-borns – I didn't see what was wrong with them, but I thought my family must have some Wrong of me, I know. Very Slytherin of me. The worst of me.

And then I met _you_. You, with your untidy hair and robes and your big laugh and smile and untied shoelaces and silly little Charms. To think it was Bella who brought us together, really! That corridor, fifth year, the scene I stumbled upon … you, a terrified little second-year under one of Bella's curses, and Bella herself. How clearly I remember it, even now.

I feel ashamed that had it not been one of the more horrible curses, I might not have done anything at all. But it was, and it was a twelve-year old, and I was a Prefect and you were there, shouting at Bella, shouting at her to take the curse off, and she was laughing, but I had never seen anyone stand up to Bella before. You didn't seem to care! It was invigorating and inspiring. I clenched my fists, drew myself up, cried, "Stop it, Bella! Now!"

And then everything went so quickly – my screams, her screams, _what are you doing? Do you not see what this is? It's a Mudblood. It deserves this. _

_Nobody deserves this._

_Are you betraying us? Are you betraying the name of Black? How dare you!_

_No – but it's – it's not right, Bella! _

A flash of light, a stinging in my face – and then a teacher appeared, Bella vanished, the second-year was taken away and I was sitting on the floor, knees too weak to stand, feeling blood trickle down my cheek. Your robes were torn and your hair an even bigger mess. I didn't know who you were, past the fact that you were a fifth-year like me and you were in Hufflepuff, but the way you were looking at me, with such pride and admiration …

_Here. Take this. _A proferred handkerchief. _I don't know any Healing spells. I'll take you to the hospital wing._

It hadn't been necessary, Bella had been too flustered to cause a lot of damage and I'd fixed the cut myself. But you stayed around, made sure I was all right, helped me to my feet, held out your hand.

_I'm Ted. Ted Tonks. You're Andromeda Black, aren't you? Your sister's mental. I mean – sorry –_

I was so shocked that anyone would talk about Bella like that that I laughed. And I saw it. Bella _was _mental, she was a nut, had a screw loose, all the terms you would later use.

_We're not so bad, _you said, grinning. _I don't see why she wants to get rid of us all. Nothing different about us, really._

I remember I felt ashamed that I didn't know you were Muggle-born, even though I'd only just met you. We must have shared classes, but I didn't remember. I was too haughty for my own good.

You saved me from myself and from my family.

Bellatrix left that year, and I was free to be your friend. I liked your companionship. I had only a few friends in Slytherin, and they were cold and arrogant; you had many friends, admirers, in Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and they welcomed me, even though I was Bellatrix and Narcissa Black's sister. If Narcissa knew how close I was with the people our family hated, she never said anything.

I didn't _fall _in love with you; I loved you more and more overtime. As a friend, then as something more, when I realised that I missed you when you weren't around, even if I was surrounded by others. You made me feel safe and happy and comfortable, something I never was at home. It was madness. You were Ted Tonks, Muggle-born, loud and funny and messy. I was Andromeda Black, pure-blood, haughty, proper, uptight. Somehow, it worked, and I never wanted to leave you.

When, on the day before we left Hogwarts for good, you asked me to marry you, I said yes without even thinking of the fact that my family would disown me. I didn't think of the fact that Aunt Walburga would blast me off the family tree for sure. I didn't think of the fact that I would be setting a 'bad' example to my younger cousin Sirius, who, as the first Gryffindor in the family, was well on his way to becoming even more of a black sheep than I. I just wanted you.

So I got you. We eloped, and I was cut off from the family; I didn't see them again. I had you – you were my family. Shortly after we married, I became pregnant, and our little family grew. I had a part of you. Our little Nymphadora; a special name for such a special child. I was so happy, even with the war raging around us. I was a mother and a wife and so in love and I didn't care about my sisters or my parents. I _tried _not to care that it was my sister, and my brother-in-laws, who were out there killing people. I had you; I was safe from it all. I could have a _normal _life. I became a Healer to help people like you had helped me. We had a normal house, not a great mansion like the one I had grown up in. Nymphadora grew up happy and loved. I loved you more and more each day.

I remind myself of all this because I never want to forget how happy I was. I love you so much still, even though you cannot know it, you and our little girl. I wish you could meet your grandson. He is so like you already, so charming and carefree.

It breaks my heart that my storybook tale has such an ending, that I would lose you in such a brutal and heartless way, but you gave me a heart to break. I _miss _you. I miss laughing at your ridiculous jokes and hearing you telling me to stop worrying about Nymphadora. My lifelines, both of you. I have another, now, my little Teddy, and I am lucky to have him, but I want _you_.

I don't think I would have changed a thing, though. I can't imagine what my life would have been had I swallowed all my family's nonsense, gone on to marry some pure-blood snob … it wouldn't have _been _a life.

I love you. I miss you. I want to shut myself in our bedroom and cry and think of you forever more, but then I remember the way you looked at me the day we met, with pride and admiration because I was strong, and I know I have to carry on.

**_What's this? Two updates in one day? Madness!  
_**

**_So I reaaaaaally like Andromeda and Ted's story - or what I imagine it to be, anyway. And it's just heartbreaking how Andromeda was left with just baby Teddy .. :( I hope I did it justice. We know a bit less about Ted, but I'll do my best with him, as soon as possible ... as always, hope you like! _**


	12. Ted

_Dear Dromeda, _

_I hope this'll get to you. I don't know when I'll be able to find an owl – hopefully before it's too late!  
I'm keeping safe as I can. Got a few companions to travel with. We're picking up the papers whenever we can, gleaning bits of news – you'd better keep your name out of there!_

_I hope that you're living life as normally as you can, and that you and Dora are well. I can't tell you how much I want to be there with you, waiting for our little family to expand. Of course, things could be much worse, could be in Azkaban or worse, but I miss you with every fibre of my being! I'm thinking up more terrible jokes for when I see you again; prepare yourself.  
If my grandchild is born before I'm back, make sure you tell them all about their favourite Granddad Ted – how handsome and witty and brilliant I am. Don't deviate from that, Dromeda, I'll know!_

_Can you believe we're going to be grandparents? Strange how time flies. Don't panic, darling, you're still young to me! _

_Believe it or not, this letter does have a point. Times like these, experiences like these, get you thinking, and I've been thinking about you, mainly. My beauty. I want you to know that every day I send out a wish that you live a safe and happy life, with or without me. I want to thank you for our gorgeous daughter and for all the joy and love you've given me throughout these years. Fifteen-year old me would be screaming – girlishly, naturally – if he were told that someday he'd marry you. Andromeda Black, Ted, you're going to marry Andromeda Black! Lucky kid._

_I'll spare you from any awful poetry, but I hope this letter makes you laugh and makes you realise, if you didn't before, just how much I appreciate you and everything you've done for me, your constant presence in my life, your kindness, your generosity, your courage. I love you more than I love the Appleby Arrows, and darling, I really mean that. _

_Crikey, it's a good thing 'ability to be serious' wasn't a quality you looked for in a husband, eh? But I have this lovely warm feeling that you wouldn't want me any other way._

_Hopefully you'll be back in my arms before too long._

_All my love, _

_Your Ted_

_**So perhaps this isn't the most beautiful or poetic letter in the world – but I like Ted and I hope I did something like this justice!**_

_**Chose to do again a different style for this one … hope it works.**_

_**Also – the award for worst updater in the world goes to … GLISSEO! Hurrah! Felt I needed to tie this up. This probably will be the last chapter, unless anyone has any more suggestions for me. So … it's done! Finally!**_


	13. Author's Note

Okay. I don't know if editing the content in the previous chapter will register an update, so I'm doing this separately – if anyone knows if it _will _register, let me know and I'll delete this.

Right. Thank you for all the lovely reviews on this fic; every single one is like rainbow unicorn magic dust, or something. I love you all! And I've been so happy to see that some of you want me to continue this – I got a suggestion for George and Angelina, which is a good idea (one I didn't think of, silly me), and I've had ones for Bill and Fleur, and others …

The thing is, I do have ideas for all of them, but I'm not sure they'll fit into the style I've been going with for this. And to be honest, I'm running out of ways to style this style, if that makes any sense.

I have literally dozens of fics in progress, one-shots, multi-chapters, drabbles, you name it. And a lot of them revolve around pairings. For instance, I do have something that's vaguely George/Angelina in the works, and I've been writing a big Teddy/Victoire thing in my head over the past few weeks … I joined Pottermore recently and the new information on there inspired me to start writing a Lily. E-centric story … so if you like that sort of thing please let me know if you'd like to read it, and I will post post post away. Motivation: I need it.

Of course if you _really really _want me to continue this then obviously I will do my very best because I owe you people so much and I will do anything you tell me to!

Oh, and for the anonymous reviewer who asked: Molly's story should be up by, hmm, let's say the end of the month as a rough estimate, depending on how much school work I get before then.

Once again I love you ALL, every single one of you, you are my favourite people on the internet and I'm sorry for being such a lousy updater etcetera. And one more thing …

I don't know if this is common in the fanfiction world, but I know in the fan_art _world artists often take requests, and I dunno, it could be a good way to get me writing. So, if you really really want a one-shot (one-shots only, people) about, I don't know, Andromeda and Ted in the library, or Lily and James's first date, or whatever, then PM me please! If I get enough response I'll post on my profile with a list of things I will and won't write – pairings for example – so look out for it.

Big hugs!  
Glisseo


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